Saturday, April 18, 2015

Platonic love, the purest form of a relationship between a man and woman, a relationship that goes beyond physical intimacy and yet the closeness to each other cannot be ignored. A relationship, that rests at the cusp of the physical and the spiritual.

This is one such tale of a tender love between two individuals, a love that is beyond the ordinary.

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The gardens of Panchal were in full bloom. Maybe it had something to do with the visit of Krishna.

“Maadhav, do you work your magic on the flowers too?” teased Draupadi, as they sat together on the swing, enjoying the cool breeze blowing through their hair.

“Krishnaa…” he said laughing, but she cut him off.

“Why do you call me Krishnaa? Am I as dark as you?” she asked, pouting like a little child.

“Krishnaa; because you have such fiery eyes,” he teased back, “Krishnaa; because you are beautiful, Krishnaa; because your attraction cannot be resisted.”

“Like you?”

“Like me.”

As they sat swinging, she gazed into Krishna’s beautiful eyes. Was it love that she saw on his face? If it was, then it was so different than any other kind of love she had ever known.

“Maadhav, why do I feel this intense love for you?” she asked. She could ask him anything, knowing he would always tell her the truth. “The love I feel for you reaches past my body. It makes my heart tremble; it penetrates parts of me that I never even knew existed.”

Krishna smiled and held her hands. “You are the Aatma, Krishnaa, and I, the Paramatma. You are the soul which is eternally in search of the divine. The love that the Aatma feels for the Paramatma is natural, Sakhi. It cannot be described, it can only be felt. It is beyond the body, it is beyond understanding, it is cosmic and yet it is concentrated in the self."

"Beyond understanding, Maadhav?" she asked, not quite sure of what he meant."Sakhi, the love I have for you is not the same as I have for maiyya Yashoda; and yet, we nurture each other, we love to trouble and tease, and yearn to be protected by the other. The love we share is not the same that I have for Rukhmini, she is my wife; and yet, I share my most intimate secrets with you, like you share yours with me. It is not the love I have for Subhadra; it is above that, I wouldn't rush to hold, and yet I wouldn't let you fall. The feelings are not that of a lover, and yet we pine to be together. The feelings are beyond lust, but when we touch, the feeling is magical and yet so pure. It is different than the love for a child, and yet we can be children when with each other. If you cry, it brings tears to my eyes, and when I am in pain, you feel the hurt. We are connected and yet separate. You are an extension of me, and yet you are not me. And that is why Sakhi, it is beyond understanding."She smiled at the thought. Friendship was such a complex feeling. It was truly beyond anyone's understanding, except the two people bound by it.

“Will you always hold my hand, Maadhav?” she asked innocently, resting her head on his lap. There was an amazing comfort when she leaned on him; it felt like all her troubles had suddenly eased away.

“You are not an ordinary woman, Krishnaa; you are Yagnyaseni, born out of the holy fire,” he said gently stroking her head, “You are stronger and courageous than any man. You are an embodiment of virtue, chastity, and intelligence. But whenever you think about me, whenever you need me, I will be there,” he said, “Amn’t I your Sakha?”

She knew that he would always be there; she just had to call out to him. She knew that she was the only one who enjoyed that unique relationship with him.

And then he untied his flute from his waist and raised it to his lips. As the notes of his flute wafted into the winds, Draupadi closed her eyes, losing herself in the celestial song and the whole world seemed like it had come to a standstill.

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A love so endearing, that it melts your heart. A friend so sincere, that he is there when she needs him. A mentor so great, that he not only guides her but also holds a mirror to her strengths.

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About Me

Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.-I have tried weaving those pictures into words . I found I could say things on pen and paper that I couldn't say any other way .Drop in for a ride on my blog.In my blog you will find short stories both non-fiction and fiction,with a common thread of emotions.
Email:titli15081977@gmail.com